


dancing with the dead

by rhodey



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Angst, Blood and Violence, Established Relationship, Fluff, I promise it's not as depressing as it sounds, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Unhappy Ending, Unhealthy Relationships, Villain Tony Stark, cus serial killers u know, like it's angsty but there's a surprising amount of fluff??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodey/pseuds/rhodey
Summary: And in the end, it wasn’t the notches on the bedroom door detailing the kills Tony had stacked up, but it was the whispered “I love you’s” in the morning when it was just Steve and Tony and nobody else, no expectations, just two people in love, that’s what made Steve stay.They fuck in the alleyway there, as per tradition.And afterward, in their apartment, they smile at each other, and Steve pretends not to notice the specks of blood still present on Tony’s clothes.orwhere steve and tony are on opposite sides of the law, yet somehow they make it work (supposedly)
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 47





	dancing with the dead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cvptains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cvptains/gifts).



> for aelina bc it's her birthday and i promised i would finish this <3 happy birthday! i love youu

Tony smiled, his hands faded in scarlet with the remains of the blood of his newest victim which laid sprawled across the empty alleyway near the trash can. The adrenaline rush caused him to almost laugh, before he began to leisurely walk away from the alley as if he was just a normal person on the way back from work, wiping the blood away on his jeans.

He walked away as if there was nothing wrong in the world, and it was simply Tony Stark taking a stroll down the street, smirking slightly at the wanted poster of himself that hung upon a lamp. The poster hadn’t even gotten a picture of him, there was simply a drawing of what they supposed he looked like; he was too fast, had too much experience to slip up like that. His head snapped up when he heard the distant sound of sirens from far away, and a couple of police cars pull up next to the alleyway he had walked away from. 

Walking a little faster, Tony slipped into an alleyway, pausing for just a second before he heard the heavy footsteps of a police officer, and the static of a walkie talkie before the line was muted and clicked off. The other man crowded him up against the wall, smiling at Tony before he kissed him. 

Steve Rogers reached up to slowly run his finger over the leftover blood on Tony’s lip, taking in the sick satisfaction he felt at the sight. 

Perhaps it was the fact that Steve who was depicted as the model citizen and police officer in society, or maybe it was just the thrill of doing something  _ wrong _ for once in his life, that drew Steve to Tony in the first place. The two had met at a coffee shop, much like one of those cliche scenes in the books that Steve loved to read so much. Steve had fallen hard and fast, and when Steve had found out about Tony’s side “hobby” of his, he had been far too gone for the other man, too trapped into his spell and caught within his orbit to do much about it. 

And maybe Tony killed other people without mercy, without even blinking twice, eyes from a person who had learned long ago to bury any feelings deep below, but oh he loved Steve oh so gently as if he were made of glass as if he held all the treasure in the universe.

And in the end, it wasn’t the notches on the bedroom door detailing the kills Tony had stacked up, but it was the whispered “I love you’s” in the morning when it was just Steve and Tony and nobody else, no expectations, just two people in love, that’s what made Steve stay. 

Their love trapped both of them, Steve especially, and both were too far gone to notice any of the red flags, the toxicity of their dependence on each other, too far enraptured within each other to care much about anything else. 

They fuck in the alleyway there, as per tradition. 

And afterward, in their apartment, they smile at each other, and Steve pretends not to notice the specks of blood still present on Tony’s clothes. 

~

The thing is, Tony Stark carried no delusions about how good of a person he was. He  _ knew  _ he wasn’t one, for, ever since his first kill at the mere age of 22 of Obadiah Stane, he had since spiraled downwards into insanity. And he doesn’t  _ want  _ to be a good person. He’s perfectly fine with living in this world where he kills people who have made other people’s lives miserable -- rapists, bullies, abusers -- it’s his own twisted sense of justice. 

With Steve by his side, they’re a picture-perfect couple, the perfect cover story of love at first sight, two people who defied societal expectations between the line of the rich and poor. 

But the media doesn’t know what happens behind closed doors when the cameras are turned off and the peering eyes turn away. Their love that knows no boundaries, knows  _ no reason.  _ It’s the cracks in the bed frame from the force of their bodies together, it’s the one oil spot from that time Tony accidentally flipped an egg onto the ceiling, it’s the drawer of sex toys next to their bedside, It is only then in which they can simply  _ be together, just be Steve and Tony. _ When the clothes are stripped away, and all that is left is skin against skin, leftover blood from the earlier killings that day, and two people just looking at each other, conveying so much with so little.

And they  _ do love _ each other, love each other more than logic knows (perhaps that is what is wrong). And that may be the only thing that the media gets right about them. If any therapist had looked into their relationship, it would be classified as an abusive relationship, but in the end, Steve and Tony don’t  _ care _ about them, don’t know enough to even think to care about other people. To Steve and Tony, there is no one who is more perfect for themselves than each other.

They can be real with each other (perhaps because anyone else wouldn’t want to look at them if they knew), and regardless of what kind of people they may be individually, together they are perfect, and that’s the only thing that matters ( _ right? _ ). They would stand against the world together, protect the other until the end of the earth, and nothing could tear them apart ( _ right? _ ). 

~

When Steve woke up, the sun was streaming through the windows, and it should have been a perfect day, one where Steve and Tony could lay in each other’s arms without a care in the world, a day where the two of them could simply cuddle in bed, watching the news which would no doubt be talking about the mysterious “Iron Man” serial killer and laugh at their stupidity. It was Sunday after all, Tony’s day off. 

The semblance of peace lasted for 5 seconds before Steve heard a sudden banging at the front door before there was a loud crash, indicating the door have been broken down. Heavy footsteps and the small crackle and hushed voices, meant that it was the police who had rushed into the apartment (Steve had gotten good at recognizing since he joined the force) who were no doubt searching for Tony.

Steve shot up in bed, yanking off his blankets, the feeling of sleep he had been under mere moments ago disappearing in a flash, as he shook Tony next awake next to him, pointing his head towards the noise outside the bedroom door. Tony’s eyes darkened, darting around the room to ensure that there wasn’t any obvious evidence at first glance. 

Nick Fury, the leader of Steve’s police precinct, slammed the door open, eyes tracking the clothing on the floor from the night before when the two of them had fallen into bed together as usual, before they fell upon Steve and Tony in bed, where Steve was rubbing his eyes, attempting to look sleepy as if he had just woken a normal couple up. 

“Hey, Captain Fury. What are you doing here?” Steve asked hesitantly, although deep inside, he knew the answer did he not? For if it wasn’t for the police in their apartment right now, it was for the sense of doom he had felt recently, the media getting closer to the truth of who Iron Man was, the blurry pics of Tony’s figure caught on security cameras whereas there would just be an empty street beforehand. 

“Steve Rogers. How are you?”

“I’m good-”

“No, don’t answer that. I don’t care. Do you know why we are in your apartment?”

“Unfortunately I don’t, but Sir, if it’s an urgent case or anything I can do to help I would be happy to.” Dimly, Steve felt empty sheets where Tony once was sitting. He didn’t know where he had gone, or how he could have gotten away so quickly, but his husband always was good at disappearing at a moment’s notice. It’s what made him such an efficient killer after all. 

Fury sighed, shaking his head. “This past year, you have had the assignment of keeping tabs on the serial killer known as “Iron Man”. I assigned this to you because I believe you to be one of our best officers, and you have succeeded on these types of missions whereas others before have failed. However, we have gotten absolutely nothing from you, not clues or hints, not even a signal that you were even  _ trying _ .”

“I’m sorry Captain. You know Iron Man from the media. He’s always so fast, slipping away just like that. I mean he’s a seasoned serial killer, and I’m me. I’m sure he knows not to leave any pieces of evidence behind. But believe Sir, I am trying.”

“I’m sure you are Steve. You see, at first, I thought you were just distracted, maybe a little more incompetent than you were before, but I thought it wasn’t a big deal right? And then I realized something wasn’t adding up, so I did some more digging, started following you around. And I realized that something wasn’t right. It was almost like you were purposefully looking away from the scenes, purposefully  _ helping him _ .”

Steve’s blood ran cold, an icy feeling spreading throughout his heart. “What do you mean?” he asked, playing dumb, the perfect picture of an unsuspecting police officer just trying to do his job caught up in a bad situation.

Fury sighed. “Did you really think we were that clueless, Steve? Did you ever wonder why the wanted posters were so far off from what he really looked like, why the media never seemed to get any pictures of even a figure until recently. It’s because we took the evidence that we had, and kept it for ourselves. It’s because we beat your husband as his own game. Yes, I'm talking about how Tony Stark, your husband is Iron Man. And you, Steve Rogers, knew this, and have watched it with a blind eye. More importantly, you’ve helped him escape far too often, covered for him far too much to be considered innocent.” 

The rest of the force swarmed the bedroom, as Steve attempted to scramble away from the handcuffs, but the force of 5 men easily overpowered Steve.

Fury smiled bitterly. "You were so goddamn good Steve, so trustworthy, someone that never failed to follow the rules. You got the best results time and time again. But I suppose something had to be wrong, you had zero transgressions with the law, not even a goddamn parking ticket. But in fact, you were hiding the biggest transgression, marrying a serial killer with a track record of over 60 people. Not only were you his husband, but you weren't even a bystander, you were  _ aiding him _ , helping him escape from his crime scenes."

The media never figured out what Tony looked like, much less caught him, and perhaps that was his mistake in the first place, believing that media truly represented what the police knew, what the government thought. 

Steve smiled slightly as he smoothed his hand over the sheets next to him again. Perhaps he shouldn't have felt relief at a serial killer getting away, but Steve was so far gone, so far enraptured,  _ in love with a serial killer _ , that he couldn't help but find relief that Tony would survive somewhere out there, he always would after all.

Fury sighed, looked disappointed, although not surprised that there was no sign of Tony in his room.“I'll tell you one thing, Steve. I'm impressed that your husband managed to slip away so quickly, and maybe I would have believed that you never found him if you hadn't been so sloppy with your excuses. Tell you what, I’ll cut you a deal. If you find Tony, I’ll spare your sentence in prison, and won’t tell anyone else about your involvement. You can continue working on the police force like a  _ good law-abiding citizen _ ."

"I would never betray my husband like that." Steve hissed.

“So you would rather join your husband in a life long prison sentence instead, never to see him again?”

Steve hesitated. 

"You have 48 hours Steve Rogers. After your time is up, well, I’m afraid I can’t do anything for you then.”

~

Steve looked into the alleyway, one that looked so similar to the one yesterday, back when everything seemed to be fine, and they could continue the charade for what seemed to be forever. 

The alleyway seemed narrower than usual, for each step Steve took, the walls seemed to close in upon him, upon his lungs so he couldn’t breathe, upon his heart until it shattered into pieces. He passed the trashcan the stray cat lived in, the one which Tony brought food scraps to often (Tony had many interests, it simply happened that his main one was killing people). 

He paused at the doorway to  _ their place _ . It was a room that nobody knew about except for the two of them, a place where he knew that Tony felt safe, more safe perhaps than their apartment, certainly more safe than Stark Tower. 

One might think that a serial killer's lair would be bare inside, perhaps only a lightbulb and a couch present in the room. But Tony Stark wasn’t a billionaire for nothing after all, and his hideout appeared more like a mansion of sorts, laid out in a similar fashion to his Malibu house, although certainly on a smaller scale.

Steve knocked on the door once, twice, then three times, their secret code that usually indicated Tony was safe. But this time, when Tony appeared, a smile on his face, Steve could only feel the icy fear grip his heart instead, fingering the small device in his pocket Fury had given him to notify the rest of the force that he had found Tony. 

“Steve.” Tony breathed out a sigh of relief. 

Steve attempted to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. How could it? He was this close to throwing everything he had with Tony away, throwing his  _ husband _ over the edge of the cliff. One step, one press of a button, and Tony would fall.

Steve closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to look at Tony, not when his lover with looking at him so full of adoration, looking at him like all was right with the world again. His thumb hovered over the button, and before he could lose the courage (all he had to do was look into Tony’s eyes and he would give up), his thumb descended, pressing it, as he exhaled shakily. 

He heard some commotion outside, no doubt Fury had gotten his location. Momentarily, he wondered how they had gotten here so fast, but he supposed he severely underestimated their capabilities, something which he had done before and destroyed him as a result. 

“I’m sorry. I love you more than anything. Don’t forget that.” Steve whispered before he slipped out of their hideout before he would accidentally meet Tony’s eyes again.

Outside, the police had already reached the alleyway, quickly breaking down the entranceway. There were some curses inside, before the struggling seemed to stop, almost in defeat. Hours later, perhaps seconds only, Steve didn’t know, didn’t want to know, Tony was being dragged out of the building in handcuffs. 

He had told himself he wouldn’t look up, but he couldn’t do that to Tony, mostly he couldn’t do that to himself. Tony had taught him how to live, perhaps on the wrong side of life, dangerously, unpredictably, but it had been an adventure, an adventure he wouldn't trade for anything else, an adventure he didn’t want to end. 

But when Steve looked up, Tony’s back was already turned, walking out of the alleyway. Away from his life, away from  _ Steve. _

_ One more step, one more push, and Tony Stark fell.  _

~

Steve walked past the metal bars, to the cell isolated downstairs from the rest of the prisoners who stared at him while he passed.

In the past 2 months, Steve couldn’t even bring himself to go down to where the holding cells were, it hurt too much to be in that close vicinity with Tony, the love of his life, the person he betrayed. 

Fury had kept his word about keeping Steve’s involvement with Tony’s kills under closed wraps, and he was allowed to continue to work as a full-time police officer. The public ate up the story of a poor unsuspecting police officer who simply happened to fall in love with the wrong person, a tragic love story that centered around the notion Steve was completely innocent.

And even if Tony was the wrong person to fall in love with, he was the  _ right _ person for Steve, and he would  _ never, ever, _ regret falling in love with him. 

_ And Tony Stark loved him back. _

Steve descended the steps down to where Tony was being kept until his formal trial. 

_ Tony loved him more than anything. _

Steve walked past the other empty cells, descending further and further into the basement, closer and closer to Tony.

_ Tony loved him too much to be too mad at him. _

Steve reached the other side, knocking softly, once, twice, three times before Tony’s eyes snapped up, before he snarled at him, scrambling up to the edge of the bars.

“I’m sorry Tony.” 

Tony looked away, the fight drained out of him just as quickly as it came. “It hurt, Steve. It  _ still hurts _ . To know that you would betray me just like that. That what we had meant that little to you.”

Tony looked up to meet his eyes, and the agony in his eyes made something inside Steve snap within himself, and he opened the cell door with the key he had stolen off the guard, meeting Tony in the middle, wrapping himself around the smaller man. 

It wasn’t any surprise when Steve found himself pushed up against the stone wall, the two of them stripping each other with the military efficiency of two people who knew each and every bend of the other person’s body.

When their lips met, it was like Steve could finally let himself breathe again. Tony’s lips molded around his, two puzzles pieces together again. Despite their heightened arousal from the sting of no sexual contact with the other person for months on end, Steve took his time with Tony, slowly trailing his hands across Tony’s skin, oh so gently. 

Tony growled, pushing Steve up against him a sort of raging fire, angry at Steve, at the world, but nonetheless  _ so gentle, so tender. _

Tony’s back arched, in tune with the rhythm that Steve was pounding into him, until Steve shuddered inside of him, slumping towards Tony’s body in the process.

In the aftermath though, it wasn’t the same. In the heat of the moment, they were together, they were one entity, and Steve could pretend that everything was the same again, that the fact that they were in a cell was just some of the weird kinks that Tony liked to explore so often. 

Back in reality though, when he looked at Tony, at the dark circles underneath his eyes, too dark for Steve to pretend that it was simply the stress from another long night out, where his hands shaking slightly too much for Steve to pretend that it was simply a harder kill than usual, Steve knew he couldn’t keep on pretending that this was their reality now. 

“Hey,” Steve whispered. “I’m gonna get you out of here someday. And if I can't, I'll keep on visiting you.”

Tony looked back at him, his eyes resigned as he stood slumped against the wall, fist clenched as if he was holding back anger at Steve (not that Steve didn’t deserve it). “It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t want to see you anymore.”

Steve stared back, flinching out of his vicinity. “What do you mean, Tony?” he whispered, even though he knew he deserved it. 

Tony stared back at him unflinchingly, “You broke my heart. You don’t care about me. Which means, as much as it breaks my heart, even more, I can’t do this knowing you’re still alive.”

Steve stepped closer to his husband. “Tony.” He whispered. “What are you doing?”

His husband just shook his head, his fist clenching, in courage, anger, or sadness, Steve didn’t know.

There was a knife. Maybe it had just appeared, maybe it had always been there and Steve was too busy drowning into Tony’s eyes, into his pain. Tony stood there clutching the knife in his hand, but strangely enough, Steve was overcome with this strange sense of peace. 

Tony shook his head, looking at Steve, a tear falling down his skin. “I can’t Steve. I can’t hate you no matter how hard I try.”

“It’s okay, Tony. I’ll be okay.  _ We’ll  _ be okay.” Steve stepped forward, towards the knife which Tony held close to his heart. “Just promise me it won’t hurt?”

“Can’t hurt more than what you’ve done to me, right? Tony shook his head bitterly. “I’m sorry Steve. I just - I don’t think.” He dropped the knife to the side, eyes welling up with tears. 

“Hey. Hey, Tony look at me.” Steve tilted up Tony’s head, leaning against his forehead. “I’m _ happy _ . I’m happy because _ I’m here with you _ . And if I have to die, I would like to die next to the love of my life.”

Tony shook his head. “I can’t Steve. I can’t do any of it. I can’t live knowing that I killed you, but I can’t live knowing that you’re still out there alive. The only way I can live is to - not live anymore.”

“You’re the strongest person I know, Shellhead.” Steve picked up the knife from the ground, slipping it into Tony’s hand. He felt this strange sense of belonging, of the feeling that everything would be okay again. “I love you.” He whispered, before he guided Tony’s hand into his chest. 

In the end, there was nothing except an encompassing feel of  _ Tony, Tony, Tony _ . Because Tony Stark was Steve Roger’s beginning and end. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading !


End file.
